A Mockery of Life
by Aenasuu
Summary: Tragedy knows many things; how to slit a throat without screams, how to lurk in the shadows, how to kill and murder. But there's one thing Tragedy could never master. Tragedy had been unable to learn the art of something which should be simple. The art of dying.


_'Like most a man, my beginnings were most humble. I was born to a normal farmer, in a normal village –the irony that one such as I would be born in such a normal circumstance is not lost on me.'_

"Give me the usual." The barkeep looked up from the polishing of his glass. Not too many people came into shinobi establishments this late at night – and those who did kept to themselves.

He dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement. "ANBU-san."

He was unassuming man, the barkeep, with a grizzled beard and a bored gaze. The kind of man you would expect to work in a bar full of killers more dangerous than any civilian. The ANBU member however, was somewhat atypical; their form was quite slight, not in height, but in girth and muscle size. Their face was completely hidden from view by a mask and a hood - the mask was also unusual – eerily so. While a normal ANBU member would have a mask themed after one animal or another, this ANBU's mask was completely white, save for the red around the eyes which made them appear to be bleeding. The hood completely obscured any hair or visible facial features, and should one daring man or woman pull it down, or peek inside, they would see nothing but darkness. A powerful genjutsu or sealing technique must have been used.

"I'm waiting." The ANBU was soft spoken, with a neutral voice than could have belonged to a man or a woman.

"Hai." The barkeep showed no visible signs of surprise at being snapped out of his thoughts and managed to sound completely insincere.

"One day that could get you killed." The masked figure spoke.

"As ever, the Grey Ones walk. My life has been full enough for me, anyhow." The barkeep was paying more attention now, and his gaze held less of a weary laziness but more a slight interest.

"You doubt our _esteemed_ Hokage?" The ANBU's voice dropped slightly in tone.

"So what if I did. Something tells me you are of a similar opinion." The barkeeps stared at a glass without interest.

The ANBU did not really respond, save for a small grunt. And with that, their business was concluded. The ANBU stared into the various glasses of strong alcohol they had ordered, and the barkeep polished the same glass over and over, fighting his own demons.

"The Hokage requests your presence." The ANBU turned their heard slightly to one side.

"Now?" Their voice was the same as before, as close to neutral as humanly possible.

"Hai. Immediately."

The ANBU disappeared in a shunshin, leaving nothing behind. After all, is it really necessary to leave anything in your wake?

"You requested my presence. Hokage-sama." The ANBU inclined their head very slightly, offering the minimum amount of respect.

"Hai Tragedy… I believe we have many things to talk about." The ANBU's back stiffened imperceptibly.

"Why am I being surrounded?" A slight inflection of tone could be heard in Tragedy's voice.

"All will be clear soon." The Hokage's voice was sickly sweet, and he took off his hat. His raven-black hair was distinctive, along with his high cheekbones and arrogant smirk. Tragedy knew this man all too well.

"Take off your mask." His command was sharp.

"No."

"There's no need to be shy now… Kimiko." Tragedy inhaled sharply.

"How did you know?" Her mask was obviously slipping, as her voice was obviously female.

"Foolish. You are only alive now because I allowed it. Show me your face."

Tragedy stiffened, and her hands shook, but she slowly took off her mask, and pulled down her hood. The face revealed was distinctly feminine. Her hair was quite long in reality, red locks reaching at least past her shoulders. Her nose was quite small, with a cute-ish button nose, and her face was quite angular and noble in appearance – high cheekbones and a somewhat regal gaze, with a small silver scar on her neck. Her eyes were the most piercing shade of blue – like the ocean on a bright day, when the sun reflects off of the water and creates a subtle shine. Her eyes shone slightly with moisture, and she was shaking slightly as the Hokage approached her.

He walked up to her slowly, eyeing her face. When he reached her he stroked her face slowly and his smile widened.

"You haven't changed much - is it not a shame to keep such beauty hidden from the world?" He said this slowly, and his hand lingered on her cheek, his gaze almost predatory.

Tragedy declined to respond. "Why did you wait until now to reveal me?"

He traced his nail along a kunai. "You were useful in that position – you take to slaughter and murder easily, considering your past convictions."

Tragedy averted her gaze. "Not by choice."

The Hokage snapped his wrist, and the kunai flew at her quickly. She caught it with one finger and balanced it there.

"You are a natural born killer, as much as you may try to deny it." He paused before drawing another kunai from his pouch and running his finger up and down, in a similar fashion to before.

"As to why I have chosen to reveal you, the council somehow found out about your living." Tragedy's hand tightened on the kunai she had caught. She hadn't been careful enough, _stupid, stupid._

"The council requested your immediate execution." The ever-present smirk was visible although his hair shadowed the rest of his face.

"Why then, am I still amongst the living." Tragedy seemed rather resigned now. There was no way out of this situation.

The Uchiha shrugged. "What can I say? I just wanted to see your beautiful face again." Tragedy blinked.

"Can I make a last request then?" The Hokage raised an eyebrow.

"Fire away."

"Send me to fight them." The Hokage leaned back a bit in a stunned silence.

"I might even find a way to kill one." She sighed. "I'm not a 'pathetic woman'.

"Why?" The raven-haired man looked at the redhead curiously.

"I want to fight. Die a warrior's death, with honour." He laughed.

"You're one to speak of honour; especially considering the numerous people you've murdered through the years." She snorted.

"And you have done much worse." A smile played upon his cracked lips.

"Much, much worse."

Tragedy continued carefully. "So, you'll accept my request?"

He flicked his kunai onto the desk. "Eh, why not."

Tragedy smirked. "We were friends once."

The Hokage merely gestured towards the door. Tragedy chose to disappear in a shunshin, leaving behind a silence.

Looking at the mirror now, Tragedy smiled. She smiled because she knew that this day would be her last, and she could continue on to the afterlife where she would receive her due punishment. Peculiarly, this thought didn't trouble her much – when you had committed as many sins as her, and gone against your own nindo so extremely, you want to be punished. Tragedy didn't doubt that whatever was for her in the afterlife was a bad thing – you can't really justify so much murder. She traced the silver scar on her neck – the one she remembered most of all, and memorised her face, lest she never see it again. With one final look behind her, she vanished from the room in a gust of wind.

She re-emerged instantaneously around five miles outside of Konoha, in a rich forest. Forests such as this one is what makes up most of the land of fire – rich, lush forests and healthy grass plains. However, the forest was silent – where you would expect to hear birdsong, or the sound of the wind rustling the leaves on the trees and the smell of the forest just after the rain. All of that was absent; the forest may have appeared to be normal from an outside look, but once you made it inside you would start to notice the little things that are missing, and the strange atmosphere of the place.

Why the forests and lands of the elemental nations were silent is an easy question to answer. The Grey Ones – faceless, merciless warriors who killed everything in their way. They had started in the land of fire, but oddly enough, they had first marched outward from that pint; going around konoha and avoiding the villages. Once they reaches the coast of the continent in every direction, they had turned around, and slowly slaughtered and killed every living thing in their way. Those years had been long ones, full of suffering and panic. All early attempts at reason or diplomacy had failed, and all attempts at fights had failed. Tragedy knew as much. Many of the people she had called friends has all been killed, defending their villages from them. Things had been looking so good – Madara has been defeated, and relative peace has returned to the shinobi world.

Like always in Tragedy's life, disaster hadn't been far around the corner. The council still wanted her dead – and this time there was no Hokage who was willing to sacrifice much of anything to keep her alive. So she vanished, leaving behind a mysterious suicide note and enrolling into the ANBU force, making sure her identity never came out. ANBU hadn't been kind to her as well, and she did many things she later came to regret, and questioned her decision to even continue living.

She closed her eyes, and started her sensing. Sure enough, she could feel one not too far from here – they weren't too hard to find if you knew what you were looking for. They had an aura most disturbing – a quiet evil that seemed not to be menacing, merely existing. Made for a purpose, probably. A few seconds later, she opened her eyes and ran up the tree.

Leaping from tree to tree, she started moving extremely quickly in chakra enhanced leaps, the likes of which can't be achieved by any normal person. She flared her senses again, trying to pinpoint a location. There - around 5 miles east of where she was. Instead of carrying on in leaps, like you might expect, she stopped. She knew that this was her last battle; she may as well prepare herself for it. She closed her eyes and leant forward in an odd meditative trance, arms and legs slightly bent, and leaning forward. After a few short minutes, she opened her eyes and started leaping. Through bright green leaves and sickly branches alike, she burst through the upper canopy of the forest. Nearing her location, she slowed slightly and checked her pockets. Everything was In. She could see it now – the grey thing.

It's hard to describe them – they aren't like anything anyone has ever seen before, at least in the elemental nations. The most noticeable feature on its head was the large metallic spike jutting out positioned directly over where the brain would be in any humanoid creature. Every bit of the face was covered with metal, dark and unscratched, with a slight delve where the eyes would be, and two smaller spikes directly where the pupils would be in a regular human eye. Its neck area was completely covered with the same dark and undamaged metal plates. The chest was much more interesting though – a massive spike jutted through its body, right were the heart would be, and this spike seemed to be different from the others, much darker and more sinister looking – a possible weakness. The rest of the figure was fairly unremarkable, save for its feet which were encapsulated in metal plates, but unlike the rest, damaged. They were slightly dented and scratched.

Tragedy maintained a fairly large distance between herself and the warrior, who took no steps forward. She could feel its gaze, as if it was measuring her, judging her, in some way. After a few seconds, which seemed an eternity, the feeling stopped. Tragedy took a breath. It should be simple – one raiton technique, and it should be frying inside of that metal casing. Somehow, she knew it wouldn't be so easy.

She gathered a small amount of chakra, and sent off a rather simple attack – a c-rank bolt. It had no noticeable effect. The warrior slowly turned to look at her, its spikes seemingly registering her as a threat. The warrior raise its hand, and slowly made a gesture she couldn't make sense of. An unbearable agony forced its way through her body, thousands of hot kunai slicing their way through her flesh. She screamed in torment – the pain constantly pulsed, ripping through her body again, and again, repeating and repeating. Despite it all, she laughed, not a happy or humorous laugh, but a laugh filled with self-loathing misery. It was foolish to think she stood a chance; not versus these living embodiments of hell. She watched slowly, outside of her body, as blood started to rupture her skin, spraying out in every direction, painting her porcelain skin a sinister ruby red. And just like that it was over.

She couldn't see shit. Only darkness. But alas, it wasn't over. Not for her.

**Reviews are always welcome :p**


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